


Secrets of the Old

by Maeglin_Yedi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 18:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maeglin_Yedi/pseuds/Maeglin_Yedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dumbledore has a secret only Snape knows of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets of the Old

**Author's Note:**

> Characters: Dumbledore, Snape  
> Rating: PG  
> Warnings: HBP spoilers  
> Disclaimer: JKR owns them all. 
> 
> Summary: Dumbledore has a secret only Snape knows of. 
> 
> A/N: Thanks to Nimori for looking it over. 
> 
> Word count: 1514  
> First published: August 2005

Albus turned around. He didn't recognize the room, which looked as though no one had lived there for many years. He didn't recognize it, but he thought he should. 

Was Aberforth there? Was he supposed to meet his brother?

Albus' thoughts shimmered, reason and understanding lying just beyond his reach. It wasn't Aberforth, that much he knew.

But he couldn't remember this room with its dusty, decrepit furniture. 

_Riddle._

That was it. Riddle. 

Albus squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath, trying to trap that thought in his mind lest it escaped him again. 

Tom Riddle. Tom Riddle. Tom Riddle. 

Tom Riddle's Horcrux.

_Yes!_

Releasing a deep breath, Albus opened his eyes again, and moved around the rickety table towards the small cupboard. He reached for his wand, and performed a simple spell to sample the magic surrounding it. 

But wasn't there something about a potion?

Albus closed his eyes again, and gritted his teeth. His thoughts were slipping, like grains of sand falling through his fingers. He tried to concentrate, he _had_ to concentrate, but there was something about a potion. 

Had Aberforth given him a potion?

He was quite sure he was supposed to meet Aberforth later that day. Aberforth had just finished Hogwarts, and they were going to celebrate with spirits and female companionship. 

Albus smiled, and looked down.

_The cupboard!_

Yes, that was it. The cupboard. 

Lowering his wand, Albus reached for one of the crooked doors and peered inside the cupboard. There was something lying on the shelf, and Albus reached for it, wondering if Aberforth had left it there. 

Fire enveloped his hand as his fingers closed around the golden ring. Heat rushed up his arm, inside his chest, around his heart, and Albus tried to release the ring, but his blackened fingers held onto the gold like a raptor's claw. The searing pain burned all his thoughts of Aberforth away, and he remembered where he needed to go for help. 

Hogwarts stood dark and majestic in his mind, and Albus closed his eyes and willed his body to make the quick journey there. 

The scorching pain forced him to his knees. There was damp grass beneath him, and Albus slumped forward, welcoming the cold ground against his heated face.

And then, for a while, there was nothing but the dark sky above him and the overwhelming pain inside him, until heavy footsteps penetrated the silence. 

"Professor? Professor!"

Albus opened his eyes and saw a man, taller than he'd ever seen before, leaning over him. It wasn't Aberforth, that much he knew. Large hands gripped around his shoulders and forced him to sit up. 

"Professor?"

"Aberforth," Albus croaked, because it was the only name he could think of. 

"No, it's Hagrid, Professor. Fang and meself were just makin' our rounds – dear Merlin, what happened to yer hand? Lemme take you to Poppy."

"No." Albus didn't know any Poppy. He was hurt, and he had to...he needed to _remember_. "Severus," he finally whispered. "Take me to Severus now."

And then he was flying and falling and he knew everything would be all right. Aberforth would know what to do.

*~*~*~*~*

Severus watched Dumbledore stir awake. He looked old and worn now that he was lying in his fourposter bed, heavy blankets keeping him warm. He didn't look anything like the powerful wizard Severus had always feared and respected.

"Severus," Dumbledore whispered, his voice hoarse. 

Summoning a glass of water, Severus cupped the back of Dumbledore's head, and then pressed the glass against his cracked lips. Dumbledore took a few small sips. 

"You almost died," Severus said. He'd never been one to dance around the truth. 

Dumbledore smiled, and damn the man, but there was a twinkle in his blue eyes. "Almost. But not quite."

Severus narrowed his eyes, his nostrils flaring. "You would have died, had Hagrid not found you. Which he did by accident, I might add." He didn't understand why he was so angry, but he felt like strangling Dumbledore with his bare hands for daring to almost die on him. And for leaving it up to him to save his life. He should have just taken him to Pomfrey, no matter what Dumbledore had forbid him to say or do. 

"Thank you," Dumbledore said, and he even sounded sincere. 

"Next time, I will inform Pomfrey. Right before I take you to St Mungo's myself." Severus helped Dumbledore sit up, handed him his glasses, and then went back to sit in the chair beside the bed. "When did you last take your potion?"

"This afternoon," Dumbledore said, and sighed. "I recall arriving at the Gaunt's in Little Hangleton."

"You shouldn't have gone alone," Severus muttered, but Dumbledore ignored him. 

"I recall entering the house. After that, however, things aren't quite clear."

Something cold settled in Severus' chest, but when he spoke, his voice sounded as composed as ever. "Twice daily doses aren't sufficient any longer, then."

"So it seems."

"You've reached the final stage."

Dumbledore nodded, glancing down.

"We'll start with doses every six hours, and we'll increase it when necessary." Severus glanced down. "You may want to inform your staff, Headmaster."

"Nonsense. If I take the potion by your schedule, no one needs to know."

"There isn't a cure, Albus!" Severus inhaled a deep breath, and willed himself to calm down. There was no use in shouting at a sick man. "There will come a time when the potion won't keep your mind together any longer."

"How long?"

"I – I'm not sure," Severus whispered. 

"How long, Severus?" There wasn't a twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes now, nor a smile on his face. 

"A year at the most." Severus looked away, and felt as if he'd just sentenced Dumbledore to death.

"I see." Dumbledore stayed quiet for a long time, and Severus pursed his lips and refused to look at him. "In that case, I want you to teach Defense against the Dark Arts this coming year."

Severus snapped his gaze towards Dumbledore. "Have you lost your mind?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "No, Severus, I haven't lost my mind. I merely seem to misplace it from time to time."

"You know what I mean," Severus said with a snort. "If you give me that position, I will be gone from Hogwarts next year."

"I'm well aware of that."

"What are you playing at, Albus?" Snape lowered his voice and narrowed his eyes, not liking the direction their conversation was taking. 

"I believe you can serve our cause better if you break your ties with me and Hogwarts after my death."

"Don't be stupid," Severus said, forgetting for a moment who he was talking to. "Your condition isn't fatal. I managed to break the curse and heal you, though I expect your hand will remain the way it is."

"I wasn't referring to my mental condition or the curse," Dumbledore said, staring at Severus with an infuriatingly calm gaze. "I was referring to Voldemort's plan. The one you told me about yesterday."

"No!" Severus was on his feet at once. "You cannot allow Draco Malfoy to -- "

"I wasn't planning to, Severus. Draco Malfoy will not be turned into a murderer if I can help it. That is why I need you to do it when the time comes."

Severus' mouth sank open, and all he could do was stare at the man who'd just suggested Severus should kill him. "No," he finally tried to say, but all that came out was a soundless breath of air. 

"Time is catching up with me, and I will be of no use to our cause when the potion stops working. This way we can assure your position with Voldemort -- "

"I don't care what we can assure this way! I won't have you end your life over a condition that isn't going to take it in the first place!"

"Calm down, my boy," Dumbledore said, and Severus wanted to throttle him for being so bloody unreasonable. "Do you remember what you told me when I first came to you about my condition?"

Severus clenched his jaw. "Yes," he hissed. 

"You told me that should you ever find yourself in my shoes, you'd sooner kill yourself than allow your mind to deteriorate," Dumbledore said, nodding. "I feel the exact same way."

Severus stared at Dumbledore, unable to find any fault in his words. And then he realized he was still standing, and he sank back in his chair, suddenly feeling exhausted. 

"Now, could you summon me parchment and ink? I need to write a letter -- "

"You need to rest."

"-- to Harry. There is much he needs to know before the end of this school year."

"Except for your mental condition," Severus said, unable to resist the cheap taunt. 

Dumbledore released a sigh. "No one can know any of this. It must remain a secret at all cost."

"Yes, sir," Severus said, though he sounded rebellious. He got up to get Dumbledore his parchment. "I haven't agreed yet, Headmaster."

Dumbledore smiled. "But you will."

 

~~fin~~


End file.
